


The Perfect Partner

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Dancing, Dancing Lessons, Eventual Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, F/M, First Dance, POV Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Kissing, Sherlock-centric, Waltzing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:09:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5276000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has come to realize that in some ways he simply hasn’t found the right partner yet. One evening, when Molly goes to Baker Street after being stood up on a date, he realizes he might have had it all along with Molly, even though he didn’t think she felt that way anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Partner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MizJoely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/gifts), [mellovesall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellovesall/gifts).



> So a while back I asked for prompts for embarrassing fics for a series and **MizJoely** left one (" _Sherlock showing Molly how to dance (or Molly showing him she can waltz) and getting caught_ ") that I decided not to use but was too good not to write up on its own at some other point. And tonight **mellovesall** picked it from my acronym list of prompts to be written, so I finally wrote it. It took me a little while, but I'm pleased with the result, and I hope you all enjoy it.

Sherlock knew that there were people who knew he could dance. Mrs. Hudson had seen him, obviously, while he was composing the waltz for John and Mary’s wedding. John and Mary both knew he could as well, having both been on the receiving end of pointers from him because he’d be damned if they’d make fools of themselves dancing to his composition. And Janine had seen him dance briefly, albeit not in a manner that was very…well, classy.

But none of them had actually danced an entire dance _with_ him. They had either observed or danced bits and pieces with him. For all they really knew, he couldn’t do a complete dance to save his life.

He did like to dance. When he was young it had been a chore, something he had despised, until he had met Annetta Tucker. She had been gangly and awkward and tortured by the girls her age, and the boys had turned up their noses at her when they’d had to pick partners for the dances. But he’d been tall and gangly too, and he abhorred bullies, so he’d gravitated towards her. And he was glad he had; she had a grace about her that made gliding around the floor in the different steps rather fun. It hadn’t lasted long; her parents had moved away and he’d lost one of the few allies in his life, as was his luck, but at least for a little while he’d had someone to share his love of ballroom dance with. And it was a love that had lasted, just like his love of classical music and science.

He just supposed he hadn’t found the right partner to want to dance with. There were no shortage of potential dance partners, he supposed; he knew there were women who found him attractive, who would want to spend time with him, but he didn’t want any of them. The type of woman he would want would be someone who understood him, who would be supportive and caring, who would love him regardless of his faults.

And he had an idea of who it would be, but he doubted she felt the same, not anymore.

He had come to realize he cared for Molly as more than a friend while he had been gone taking care of Moriarty’s network, and the feeling had intensified when he had come back and found her engaged to Tom. He was not the type to purposefully ruin the particular friend’s happiness, now, as much as he would have liked to, so he’d bided his time and waited to see what happened.

When her engagement ended he’d already begun his fake relationship with Janine. He wasn’t sure Molly would forgive him for that. And then there was the drug use, and then drugging his family and Mary and shooting Magnussen and all of that, and being sent off to Russia…it was only by sheer luck that he got a second chance at freedom. And their relationship was rather strained, it seemed. 

He hated it.

Today he was alone, listening to Shostakovich’s “Waltz No. 2” on the stereo in the sitting room at Baker Street. He had his eyes shut and was just trying to relax after a stressful day dealing with imbeciles at Scotland Yard. It’s what he got for taking a case that wasn’t one of Lestrade’s cases. He heard footsteps coming up to the room and he opened up his eyes to see Molly coming up, standing in the doorway. She looked different than usual, wearing a sleeveless pink dress with a high scoop neck that came down just past the knees that was decorated with embroidered peonies and leaves and high heels. Her hair was pulled back in a French twist with a few tendrils hanging down. She looked very different than she had in the other dressy outfits he had seen her in, classy but understated. She wasn’t trying as hard as she had before and he was struck by how lovely she seemed. “You look very nice,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said. “I had a date, but I got stood up.” 

“Then he was an idiot,” he said, sitting up more. He rested his elbows on his thighs. “Would you like tea?”

She nodded. “That would be nice.”

He got up and made his way to the kitchen. “What were you planning to do on your date?” he asked.

“Dinner and dancing,” she said. “I’m not a very good dancer, but I do like doing it.” She sighed. “It would have been nice, but I suppose it just wasn’t meant to be.”

He paused. “Do you know how to waltz?” he asked, turning to face her.

She shook her head. “Not really.”

“Would you like to learn?” he asked quietly.

She looked at him. “You’ll teach me?”

He nodded. “Yes. I can teach you how to waltz.”

“All right,” she said.

He moved away from the kitchen and then came into the sitting room. “Help me move the furniture around.” She nodded and they began to clear a space in the sitting room. Once there was enough room he went to the stereo and restarted the song before going over to Molly and putting his hands on her to get her in position. “Just let me lead,” he said.

She nodded, and then he began to lead her around the floor in the waltz. They moved haltingly at first, with Molly making a few mistakes, but eventually Molly began getting the hang of it and they began to move around the floor with a rather fluid grace. Sherlock realized that this felt perfect. This felt absolutely right, dancing with Molly in his arms. 

When the song ended he stopped and Molly looked up at him, smile on her face. Their height difference wasn’t quite as severe as it usually was, and she leaned in as she kissed his cheek. “That was lovely, Sherlock. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said quietly, looking down. She pulled away slightly, and then she reached up to touch his face gently. Only then did he look at her face, look in her eyes. “Molly?”

“I…would it be all right to… _kiss_ you kiss you?” she asked. “I mean, not on the cheek?”

He nodded slowly, moving his hands to pull her closer against him. “Yes,” he said.

She leaned in and hesitantly pressed her lips against his softly, just for a moment, and then he kissed her back, pulling her even closer. Maybe he had found the right partner after all, he thought. Maybe he really had gotten that lucky.

The applause coming from the doorway caused them both to pull apart and look over with wide eyes at the audience they seemed to have gotten. Standing there were Mary, John ad Mrs. Hudson. “Were we interrupting?” Mary asked sweetly.

“Yes,” Sherlock said, glaring at them. “What do you want?”

“Just thought we’d pop by, see if you wanted quality time with your goddaughter, but we can see you’re busy with dance lessons,” John said with a grin.

“And snogging,” Mary added cheekily.

“Yes, dear,” John said. “So we’ll pop by later.” The two of them turned around and left, leaving Mrs. Hudson by the doorway, giving Sherlock and Molly a fond look.

“Yes?” Sherlock asked.

“Oh, nothing. You just both reminded me of myself and my first husband when we were young and in love,” she said dreamily. “I’ll leave you be.” She turned around and made her way back to her part of the flat.

Sherlock shook his head. “I’m sorry for the inter—” He was cut off, though, by Molly’s lips on his. He lost himself in the kiss, pulling her close. When they finally pulled apart to breathe, he looked down at her, lightly massaging the small of her back as he kept her close. “Not that I minded, but why did you do that?”

“I waited far too long for our first kiss. I didn’t want to let interruptions delay our second,” she said, playing with the lapel of his suit jacket.

He licked his lips slightly. “And our third?” he asked, leaning in.

“Best not to delay that, either,” she said before their lips met again.

Yes, he decided. Molly really was his perfect partner after all.


End file.
